This painting is a lovely memory of a tiny island
in the South of France.

Sweeping white beaches
and limestone cliffs
frame a sanctuary of oak and pine.

Teeming with chirping cicadas,
butterflies,
and sprawling eucalyptus trees.

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The evening sky casts a dusty pink light across the scene, soft and muted, like a faded filter.

The palm trees stand tall in the glow, their edges blurred by the warmth.

It's quiet. The kind of stillness that makes the ordinary feel unreal.

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Painted in Tasmania's quiet, wild light,
The Song of Trees took shape,
its branches telling stories of wind and time,
its roots humming of earth, water, and sun.

A painting that holds the voice of a forest,
a song of memories, movement, and life,
echoing through the landscape long after
the light has faded.

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In the morning light,
flowers bloom, the morning dew glimmers
beneath the sunlight.

Each petal greets the morning sun,
soft whispers in the gentle breeze,
the meadow glows as the day begins.

The beauty in each flower's face,
a peaceful, colorful embrace.

Slowly opening,
revealing itself to the world,
dancing in the morning light,
a world of wonder.

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The sun rises,
and the morning dew reveals its magic.

Shimmering droplets,
adorning the earth with nature's jewels.

A moment of purity and renewal,
a pause to reflect
and cherish the beauty of the world.

I love the early morning dew
on the flowers and fields around my home,
touched by the first rays of sunlight,
shining brightly and creating magic.

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Trees are magical, holding stories within their branches.\n\nPainted with ink made from tree bark, they whisper the quiet language of nature.\n\nA simple reminder of the beauty that surrounds us.

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Beyond romance,
there is another kind of love,
the love of friendship,
of chosen souls,
of those who walk beside us.

Perhaps we forget to say it enough.
And I love you...

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Tiare, the fragrant flower,
worn in the hair,
a symbol of beauty and welcome.

A quiet memory
of island days,
carrying the spirit of the islands
in every woman who wears its bloom.

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Among fields of chocolate brown wildflowers bloom without fear.
So delicate in their quiet petals,
yet rooted deep like the earth itself.

They bend with wind and weather,
never asking to be seen,
still, soft and steady,
carrying beauty without trying.

And in those warm, earthy chocolate tones lives something timeless and true, a lovely kind of strength,
the kind that quietly survives.

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In Asia flowers have a deeper meaning, and the Frangipani flower is considered as an essence from nature that brings enlightenment and kindness. There are so many frangipani trees in our neighborhood here in Bandung.

Every morning, very early, when the air is still fresh, we make a walk, and I love to collect the fallen flowers.

There are some things, that just smell so good: coffee, jasmin, orange blossoms, and frangipani flowers.

This painting is a lovely memory of my love for Java and frangipani flowers.

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Looking at a picture, allowing yourself to be absorbed, is much like reading.

Immersing yourself in a story, diving into another world.

I love getting lost in books. This artwork reminds me to read more.

"With freedom, flowers, books, and the moon, who could not be perfectly happy?" (Oscar Wilde)

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I met her in a quiet village far away in the mountains,
a place so remote, untouched by time.

We did not share a language, yet we understood each other
through eyes, through gestures, through silence.

I tried to capture her gaze,
her presence held in soft brown tones, like earth and memory.

A portrait of connection, beyond words, beyond distance.

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Glowing in vibrant orange, a symbol of happiness, vitality, and light.

A leaf of singular beauty,
a symbol of growth and protection,
of peace, strength, hope, and love.

Rooted in duality,
yin and yang,
the feminine and masculine.

The tree of life,
its leaf a quiet reminder:
love endures.

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I love painting landscapes,
under open skies,
watching the sun and clouds drift by.

It is more than capturing a scene;
it is about feeling the moment
through every brush stroke.

Landscape and flower paintings
bring nature's peace into our homes,
creating a quiet island of calm
for the soul.

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I love watching the sunrise
over the mountains, quiet and still.

The sky coloured in shades of pink
before the sun begins to appear,
soft light spreading slowly.

The mountains glow,
looking so magical,
like something out of a dream.

A quiet moment, just for me,
before the world wakes up.

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Live for the tiny little things in life. Life is a series of thousands of tiny little miracles.

Live for sunrises and sunsets. The sound of the ocean, the smell of the rain and starry nights.

Live for the small words of praise, a smile. The tiny things like a good cup of coffee or a fresh smelling flower, a handwritten love note or the smile of a stranger.

Live for the tiny things in life, because they will make you realize that this is what life is about. Let's dance in the sunlight, wearing wildflowers in our hair. Live for the tiny little things.

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Early morning in the city. Marrakesh is waking up, sun is softly rising, the leaves of the palm trees are softly stirring.\n\nSoaking up the sounds and smells. The vegetable vendors, the donkey cards, bicycles and trucks that pass by.\n\nSoft pink morning light, so softly gleams. Beautiful morning.

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A slice of lemon raspberry pie,
its vibrant raspberry colours
glowing softly in the light.

Resting on a handmade yellow clay plate,
a simple moment became a small oasis.

I painted it so I could hold on to it,
the sweetness, the colours,
and the quiet feeling of stillness.

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Sunsets are painted by loved ones.\n\nThe mountains are touched by the last warm light of the day. Each sunset is a reminder that beauty can be found in letting go.\n\nThe fading colors seem to whisper of hope, wonder, and new beginnings.\n\nAnd tomorrow, there will be a new day waiting to unfold.\n\nIn that fleeting moment between light and darkness, there is peace.

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Some whimsy, some wonder, and a whole lot of romance.\n\nYume means dream, a place where imagination blooms, a little piece of one captured here.

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